by Kevin Tiernan

Created on: July 01, 2009

THE AMBER CRISIS (part 1)

No sooner had the horizon reached my eyes over the steady hill in the road, I heard a loud pop. It was ear-shattering; almost like the sound of balloon popping, 10 times over. Only, this time, I was pretty sure the balloon was my tire. My car violently swerved to the right, like a door on its hinges, and I frantically spun the wheel the opposite way. It was all a useless feeble attempt to regain control. The second pop came seemingly out of nowhere, and my struggling trials at control made no difference. I saw the side of the road coming closer, and, against my will braced myself. I was numb to reality and all I felt. The light cast by my headlights on the road in front of me, and the blood red flash of my break lights. Bright lights as my body met the wheel, and my world went black.

I was a stocky young man dressed in a tux standing at the altar. Only, I wasn't me, I was someone else, somewhere else. The small crowd around me was chattering, discussing and whispering something. There was no bride beside me on the altar, only the groomsmen. A worried woman that appeared in her 60's, with pearl white hair, scurried awkwardly in my direction. She beckoned my head forward, and whispered in my ear,

Scott, I'm so sorry, she's run away.

My dream gave way to reality, and shapes and blurs birthed themselves out of nothing. A little ray of light made its way through my squinting barely opened eyelids. It must have been morning. The time and place were topics of questions begging to be asked. Groaning, I shifted my weight, felt shards of shattered glass, and realized I was on my stomach, still remaining in my car. In a haze, I processed that my Ford Explorer had flipped itself. The steering wheel was protruding into my side, and I began to claw my way out from under the over turned car. Every article of my body ached, even parts I didn't know I had. Dragging myself, my feet trailing behind, I managed to lift myself out of the driver window frame onto the sun lit road. Standing up, the unsettling information that I had no idea where I was, hit me like a brick. Possibly a bag of bricks.

I made my way to one of the deflated wheels, and ran my hand along its surface. There was nearly a clean-cut hole, bored into the wheel. The whole picture looked like one of the cartoon suns; with the lines coming off it. Buried a few inches deep was a silver bullet; a canary in a coal mine. I leapt back, stumbling over my feet and my words.

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